aircraft-grade

words of harlequin today: 2480;  total: 8044.  if i'm good, i won't write tomorrow, but will instead read a lot of coursebooks, and maybe make some photocopies.  of course, if i were really good i would have done the reading today. 

stupid real life.  just when i am writing crack and have mojo. 

we watched bright young things, and i loved it a lot.  i didn't love it nearly as much as wodehouse, but i loved it for being so thoroughly a tribute to wodehouse.  it was very pretty and well-directed, too, i thought--nice cinematography--yay for the internationally tall stephen fry! 

shiroi_chi watched with us, since she was dropping by anyway to borrow some dvds, and in the five minutes before she arrived wax_jism was suddenly seized with the completely unavoidable urge to disinfect things--an urge that she has not had for the past eleven months.  so chi arrived while she was putting drain-cleaner down the kitchen sink, and then we got to wait in curiosity while she scrubbed one corner of the kitchen floor with ammonia and emptied the trash from the bathroom, and she had to do it right then, it absolutely could not wait until after the movie.

she said later that she thinks The Crazy is rubbing off of tea onto the other pets--lily's taken to standing in the sink for no reason too, and the dog's very recently tipped the back cushions of the couch down to make a very messy nest.  perhaps The Crazy, like certain other very dangerous diseases, is communicable across species barriers. 

that's toot style for you.

i called my mom today, hoping to use her as a plot consultant for my harlequin plot because she's totally the expert.  i started absorbing the harlequins which were always scattered liberally around our house, as well as filling three floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a number of crates in her home office, around the age of six.  so, right, i called and explained the plot i was using--proud defiant heroine refuses sexy millionaire's indecent proposal and then is forced to throw herself on his mercy to pay for her mother's cancer treatments, but he insists on getting married instead.  she only offered me a couple of not-very-useful suggestions before getting distracted.  we talked for a few hours about the local school systems and then for a while longer i listened in bemused silence as my parents argued with each other over the phone from opposite ends of the house.  (sheppard and mckay really do sound like them, man.)

i also found out they've started watching and enjoying sga and firefly (which my mom called "firefox"), although neither one of them was sure what the characters' names were, and i had to describe john and rodney to them as the pointy-haired protagonist and the genius.  when i told them i was writing sga slash now, they eventually agreed that since it had a plot, they would both like to read it.  daddy explained very earnestly to me that his rule of thumb (that he's "always used", he told me)  for when to read my gay porn is that he finds it interesting only if it contains a plot beyond the romance. 

speaking of thumbs, the latest schoolteacher gossip is about a middle-school girl at the new eastwood who punched a guy in the face and then ran through the halls to her own classroom and slammed the door behind her, presumably to stay safe.  ( cut for grossness of the blood variety. )

and uh, this awesome icon is by restriction, who rocks.  it refers to this.